


Grantaire Has a Revelation (And Enjolras is Unexpectedly Affectionate)

by ecrituredelafangirl



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Grantaire suddenly believes something, I love this couple, M/M, and Enjolras is happy, and unexpectedly affectionate, light metaphors are fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecrituredelafangirl/pseuds/ecrituredelafangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically the title: Grantaire wakes up, has a revelation pertaining to his relationship (with Enjolras).  And then Enjolras is unexpectedly affectionate.  They're cute and lovely and will be together forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grantaire Has a Revelation (And Enjolras is Unexpectedly Affectionate)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired completely by art: http://aparticularlygoodfinder.tumblr.com/post/51409585518/ryssababe-these-are-for-you-3
> 
> It's really pretty art, if you were wondering. I think you should go check it out. :)

Grantaire wasn't used to this yet. Not the strange apartment. (Or the _new_ apartment, he should say.) Not the tangle of limbs that he seemed to wake up to every morning, or the unexpectedly affectionate man who seemed to be the the source. Not the _warmth_.

It had been a year and Grantaire still woke expecting to be cold and alone. It had been a year, and he never had been. Enjolras saw to that. 

And Grantaire wasn't complaining, certainly not. It was just disconcerting - part of him still thought he _deserved_ to be cold and alone. A large part of him. And, as much as he pushed that part down in the daylight (or forgot about it in the daylight is more likely, as Enjolras's light seemed to fill in his dark spaces) it tended to creep back to him when the moon was up. 

But Grantaire still wasn't used to this - this warmth and light, this _Enjolras_ \- in the morning. And he knew Enjolras knew it; Grantaire also knew that knowledge irritated Enjolras to no end. (He wished everything could be easy with this - that Grantaire would just believe the things he said in his ears, against his skin, into his mouth. But he was learning that it took a while for Grantaire to believe _anything_ he said: about what he was trying to do, about what Enjolras preferred to be called (not _Apollo_ certainly - where Grantaire had come up with that ghastly comparison, he would never know), or about how he really felt. It was frustrating, but Enjolras was committed, these days, to making him believe.) Grantaire, however, couldn't help it. He hated himself a little for it, but he couldn't help it. In fact, he'd come to expect it. 

That's why, one morning, when he wakes up, turned into warmth, an arm slung around Enjolras's waist, their fingers entwined and he feels like he _belongs_ there, he immediately has to pull back. He immediately (and carefully) has to pull his fingers out Enjolras's hand, reclaim his arm, and to sit on the edge of the bed. He has to put his head in his hands, fingers covering wide eyes. 

And that's how Enjolras finds him. The moment he opens his eyes, and feels the emptiness on the other side of the bed, he rolls over. When he sees that Grantaire is actually still _there_ , he reaches out and runs a gentle hand down his bare back. When Grantaire doesn't move, Enjolras pushes himself up into a sitting position and slides over, pressing his body flush with his boyfriend's back. He kisses his shoulder. 

"I want you here," he says quietly. "Like every morning, I still want you. With me." And he's mildly surprised when Grantaire doesn't come back with his usual biting remark. Instead, Enjolras's statement is rewarded with some kind of laugh sigh thing that has him pulling his legs up under him and pushing himself up, sliding an arm around, just under Grantaire's collar-bone and prodding him upward until his entire back is flush with Enjolras's chest. His neck is lengthened, his head held high with almost a...smile on his face. Enjolras's hand drops from gripping Grantaire's opposite shoulder to take up a slack grip down at his ribs. He's surprised. 

Then Grantaire turns gently towards his boyfriend, his fingers curling gently over Enjolras's bicep. 

"I know," he murmurs, a laugh in his voice. "I think... I know."

And even the small amount of conviction in his voice was stunning. Enjolras drapes his other arm over Grantaire's shoulder, pressing gentle fingers just over his heart, and brings him closer - pressing hot-openmouthed kisses to the side of his neck. He was so beautiful, Enjolras's soul aches and the fact that _maybe Grantaire finally understood_ , even a little bit, made him grin like an idiot. 

"You know?" he asks, and gentle eyes meet joyous ones. 

"It's funny," and by the way Grantaire is smiling, Enjolras almost believes it is. "But I just... I woke up and I just...knew. It's weird." He grimaces and Enjolras presses another kiss to his shoulder in protest of his expression. 

"No. No it's not. It's the truth," he says. 

And Grantaire turns to him, an easy, knowing smile on his face. For a moment he just meets Enjolras's gaze. Then he leans forward, his left hand coming up and grazing fingertips on Enjolras's forearm, and presses a kiss to his nose. It's sweet and pleasant and when he pulls back, Enjolras's expression is one of near adoration - enough to have Grantaire leaning forward again, the hand on his boyfriend's bicep moving up, gripping his jaw gently, and kissing him on the mouth. 

What begins as chaste quickly becomes filthy, hot, passionate, and when Enjolras pulls him down to the bed, he follows, leaning further into the kiss. 

And, several breathless moments later, when Enjolras whispers "You belong with me," ferally, possessively against his skin, he's surprised (pleasantly) by how easy it is to lean into the warmth and _believe_.


End file.
